Purloined
by ItsClydeBitches221B
Summary: A secret santa gift for Naxiu5. Answers the prompt: "Balem survived. What's next?"


Jupiter Jones sat in a high backed chair in an otherwise empty room. She wore a black, silver-lined vest, black pants, black boots, and the whole ensemble allowed her to fade into the shadows, only her pale face shining out from the darkness. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, perhaps just a smidge tighter than was normal. She smiled.

"You should know that all this began four months after NASA reported a strange cloud erupting from the surface of Jupiter," she said. "The finding was nearly missed given the storm, but one lucky researcher had her telescope pointed at just the right spot at just the right moment and she saw _this_."

Jupiter waved her left hand, now adorned with two new rings since that summer. A hologram appeared behind her, cutting into the darkness, infusing the room with oranges and reds. Images of destruction on Jupiter's surface flickered past.

"The fall of the refinery," she said, voice soft. "Many thought it nothing—blowback, an odd spot within the storm, even the researcher's imagination, for those who didn't see the images for themselves. Nothing much came of the findings, except for the fact that it laid the foundation for what started four months later; when I guess what you'd call World War III began."

This time Jupiter raised both hands and four figures stepped forward, two on either side of her chair: fair haired splices with identical wings, a twitching rat splice, and a dark-skinned member of the galactic police. All of them wore uniforms similar to Jupiter's, minus the silver embellishment. All of them bore the same, strained expression.

"Chicanery?" Jupiter prompted.

"Y-yes. Yes." He coughed, pale hands shining as he manipulated the hologram. Data streamed forth. "Here we are then. November 17th, 2015, the first of the abductions. Of course, no one knew they were abductions at the time. They thought…" he trailed off, swallowing, then glanced behind him for help.

"They assumed the victims deceased," T'sing said, loud and clear. Before her, Jupiter briefly bowed her head. "Looking back, it's estimated that on November 17th some two-hundred Earthlings disappeared from the Chicago area by the end of the established workday. On the 18th that number jumped to six-hundred, then a thousand… by the twenty-fifth so many friends and acquaintances had disappeared that authorities were close to panicking, calling on nearby cities and even other countries for help. No one else had been affected though. Yet."

Stinger ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it. His movement broke the solemnity of the group. "Damn unnatural," he said, shivering. "Any fool could see that. Hadn't a clue what it was though, poor bastards. Lots of theories thrown about. Sickness. Cult. Only a matter of time before they hit the right nail on the head." He smiled humorlessly. "Aliens."

"That used to sound so wonderfully dramatic," T'sing sighed.

Jupiter cracked a smile, though it was too sharp and too brittle.

"At the time of the abductions, approximately six people on Earth knew the name 'Balem Abrasax.' Thirteen if you include those who no longer _remembered_ they knew the name. Not a lot, obviously. How was anyone else supposed to figure out that the attack was lead by a pseudo-immortal brat having a galactic temper tantrum?"

"… Your Majesty," Caine murmured. They were the first and only words he spoke.

Jupiter's smile spasmed. "Right. Anyway. The point is that only a few knew about our battle on my namesake planet that summer. _None_ of us knew this was Balem's doing until weeks into the chaos—how could we? He was supposed to be dead. I watched him fall, but apparently that little bastard grew wings."

"Caught his legs in a teleportation beam which slowed his fall and was immediately outfitted with life-saving cybernetics by the remaining Sargorns, actually," Chicanery murmured, not seeming to notice the others' glare. He did look up from his PADD though. His eyes narrowed as if he were addressing someone quite far away. "We only confirmed it was Lord Balem when 97.6% of Earth's population had disappeared… yet Her Majesty's family remained untouched. Given the size of the Jones' household, that was quite the statistical impossibility."

Jupiter rested her head in the palm of her hand, leaning against the chair's armrest. It was the most she'd moved since this all began and the hologram behind her flickered—showing Earth, space, people, splices, war, peace—as if picking up on her agitation. It eventually settled on an image that luckily Jupiter couldn't see: her mother and father, embracing, a swollen belly the only thing pushing them apart.

"Do you have any idea," she whispered. "What the does to the survivors?" Jupiter let out an icy chuckle. "Hell. That wasn't how I wanted to explain all this to the family."

But Stinger was shaking his head. "Yeah, but even then we weren't sure, right? That it was Balem? Didn't _want_ to be sure if we're being truthful here. Her Majesty's blood-ties and the few splices camping out on Earth… anyone would have spared them if they wanted to avoid an intergalactic war—if they were smart. Could've been pirates. One of the other Entitled. Lots of reasons to snatch up humans besides… you know…"

Next to him, Caine's hand tightened over the back of Jupiter's chair. The material creaked, then split.

"Which is all just to say that we wasted a hell of a lot of time," Jupiter snapped. "Look. We don't have a lot of time _now_ either. This," she gestured to the darkness surrounding them. "Is not going to last. We have to move. Soon, but I wasn't going to let this battle commence without explaining it first. Not this time. Humanity deserves to know. That Balem…he… "

"He has allies," T'sing finished quietly. "Not out of loyalty, but fear. That's still potent though. To say nothing of his siblings, eager to get their paws on humanity however they can. It was enough to get him back on his feet and more than enough to jeopardize Earth. But _we_ have allies too, Your Majesty. You mustn't forget that."

They lapsed into silence. Then, even more softly than T'sing had spoken, Chicanery's voice cut around them.

"' _I will harvest that planet tomorrow before I let her take it from me_.'"

Jupiter nodded. Slowly, then with more confidence.

"Those were his words."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Which is why I think my people are still alive." Jupiter looked up then, directly ahead. Her eyes almost glowed in the darkness. "I _did_ take Earth from him and I have every intention of keeping it. There might have been a time when Balem killed them all out of spite, but he's become far too greedy for that. Besides, it wouldn't truly be beating me for him to kill them, now would it? No. They're all still out there. On one of his ships. Waiting until he has the materials and resources to harvest them. They're _alive_."

The word was spoken with such conviction that it reverberated through the air. If any of Jupiter's comrades doubted her, it didn't show in their expressions. Their shoulders were level and taut.

Jupiter stood. The others filed even closer around her.

"There's an outpost hosting the last few hundred humans from Earth, including my family. Call it a planetary safe house. If things go south they'll at least be safe. They'll receive this story."

The hologram winked out. The darkness edged even closer to the group—unseen lights beginning to dim.

"That's the true test," Jupiter said. "How you'll know if we won or not? If you're reading this in some dusty textbook… well, sorry we couldn't do better. It's history now. But…"

Jupiter knelt down, very close. The others receded.

"See, it's kind of amazing what you can do with memory pills. Even if you need seven billion. We've got 'em. So if you're reading this and it's just a story… it _is_ just a story, right? There were no aliens. No harvesting. You never left the safety of your room. A story means we won."

Jupiter smiled and this time it was genuine. It was beautiful too.

"So which is it, reader? Fact, or fiction?"


End file.
